Berries

May 18, 2018

“I want berries.”

“What?”

“I want berries. You know, like the fruit. Strawberries, blueberries, whatever.”

“Oh…”

Sometimes while visiting the girl we love, I get thrown for a loop. The conversation suddenly veers in a new and unexpected direction. We had been talking about her release date, and then she decided to let us know that she wanted berries once she got out of jail.

She continued, “The variety of fruit we get in here is limited: oranges, apples, bananas.”

“No berries?”

She shook her head, “No berries.”

I thought for a moment and said, “Tell you what. Make a list of the kinds of food you would like, and we will make sure we have them available.”

She smiled. “Cool. Oh, I would also like hot wings, but I probably won’t be able to get them right when I get released at 3:00 AM.”

“Uh, no, probably not.” Then I suggested half-jokingly, “We could celebrate your release by going to George Webb’s for breakfast.”

(Note: George Webb’s is a local diner chain that is open 24/7. The chain is famous for incredibly greasy food served by a surly wait staff. The only thing healthy in a George Webb diner is the pickle that sits on top of the hamburger patty in one of their sliders. The clientele at Webb’s at 3:00 AM on a Sunday morning is eclectic, to say the least. Eating a pre-dawn breakfast there is akin to being part of a Twilight Zone episode.)

The girl thought about the offer, then she replied, “How about Denny’s? They are open all night.”

“Yeah, we could do that.”

She smiled again and said, “We would probably be the only sober people in the entire restaurant.”

Oh, so true. The bars all close at 2:00, and drunks with the munchies descend on Denny’s like locusts. It would be entertaining, if nothing else.

The young woman seemed quite pleased. After all these months of incarceration, a restaurant menu would probably be sensory overload. What would she pick? Everything? I am imagining a long and careful selection process.

I know for sure I will be ordering coffee.